In the Blood
by Lacadiva
Summary: Serious Shepp whumpage. John is imprisoned for suspicion of espionage by offworld captors who use a very unusual torture and interrogation technique. Did I say major Shepp whumpage? My first ever Stargate fic.
1. Chapter 1

In the Blood (1/3)

by Lacadiva

_Rating: PG-13/R for violence. Disclaimer: I don't own anything, I won't get anything, and I'm happy that way. _

_Summary: Serious Shepp whumpage. John is imprisoned for suspicion of espionage by offworld captors who use a very unusual torture and interrogation technique. Did I say major Shepp whumpage? _

_There must be some kind of way outta here_

_Said the joker to the thief_

_There's too much confusion_

_I can't get no relief_

--Jimi Hendrix, _All Along the Watchtower_

vv 1 vv

"For the last time, guys, I'm not a spy."

John was frustrated and weary of their questions. The Lamemnian officials had been interrogating him for hours non-stop. None of John's answers seemed to satisfy them, even though they were mostly true. Mostly.

"We mean you no harm. We're explorers. We came through the 'gate..."

They had bound his hands and kept him sitting on the cold stone floor of a dark, foul-smelling place he could only describe as a dungeon for at least two days, deprived of food, water and sleep before they even began questioning him, hoping to weaken him, break him. The cold was already seeping into his bones, making them ache, making him shiver. They asked the same few questions over and over, their faces expressionless, giving no hint of emotion, not even anger. Even so, John could tell they were losing patience.

John's gut seized and ached from hunger, his arms were heavy and numb from lack of circulation. His wrists were caked with dried blood from attempting to wring his hands free. His head was still pounding from the staggering blow delivered by a Lememnian soldier at his capture. They had stripped him of his weapons, his communicator, his tac vest. His only hope was that his life sign would still register despite the heavy walls of stone and forged iron that created his cell. And that his captors would not choose to resort to more persuasive interrogation methods anytime soon.

John had barely made it through the Stargate, had barely seen any of what this new world had to offer when their party was ambushed. They could have met their attackers with superior force, but the Lememnian soldiers fought with ancient weapons - spears, clubs, bows and arrows. He made a judgment call - rather than cut them down, they would simply retreat and return at another time. Teyla, Ronon, Rodney and the rest of the away team managed to make it back through the gate, safely back to Atlantis. Everyone but John, who stayed behind to create a diversion so the others could slip through. Classic stupid move, John mused. "Never works," he muttered to himself, "always gets me into trouble."

"Hey," John said, mocking joviality, "y'think I could get a little water? Maybe a little something to eat?" His captors merely stared at him. John lowered his head. "Can't hurt to ask..."

And then the thought, that deadly discouraging thought he fought and tried to keep from the forefront of his mind, wormed its way into his consciousness: _No one had come back for him_. No one was going to come for him. There would be no rescue. He was on his own.

"Your people have abandoned you," T'kel said, creepily echoing John's very thought and fear, causing him to drop his stare to the floor so his captors would not see the despair on his face. T'kel circled around John menacingly. "You have no reason to protect them. Tell us your true purpose here."

"I told you everything. I'm not here to spy. We're explorers. Nothing more. We came through the Stargate to --"

"You were armed!" T'kel spat. "You came as soldiers. You came to slaughter us, to conquer us, to enslave us!"

"Wrong!" said John. "Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars."

"Then tell us! What is your mission?"

"To explore strange, new worlds. To seek out new life and new civilizations. To boldly go where no man has gone before. Something like that."

T'kel, of course, neither recognized or appreciated the old Star Trek reference. Neither did the other three Lamemnian officials who stood perfectly still, silently observing the interrogation process.

T'kel hit John hard across the mouth.

"I was wondering when you'd get to that," John said, and spat blood. A lot of blood.

"We have given you ample opportunities to speak the truth. If you cannot appreciate patience or reason, we shall have to try harsher methods."

"I can tell you right now, I'm not good with torture. Sure, I'll kick and scream and call you bad names and threaten to kill you and all, but I'm not changing my story, because I'M TELLING THE TRUTH."

T'kel hit John again, knocking him to the floor. His ears were ringing, and the room was swimming. John rose shakily, prepared to take more. T'kel moved to swing again, but one of his colleagues, one of the observers, reached out and grabbed hold of T'kel's arm, holding it firmly.

"This is futile," the Observer said. "We have but one other choice. We will draw the truth from the offender."

"I don't like the sound of that," John said.

"It is most effective," T'kel's colleague spoke. "And when the M'karra has finished with you, we will know the truth, and every secret you possess."

"I don't like the sound of that either," John said, feeling his lips beginning to swell at the corner, feeling the inside of his mouth filling with blood.

T'kel motioned to his cronies to leave. Before leaving himself, he turned back to John. "You may wish to rethink your position, before it is too late."

And then they left. John lay on the cold floor, exhausted and pissed. Why hadn't Ronon and Teyla found him yet? Would there be a rescue, or was he on his own? And what the heck kind of weapon or torture device was an m'karra? He had to find a way out of there. Now.

He worked his wrists, trying once again to loosen his bindings, but the strong leather ropes only dug deeper into his already rended flesh, burning, drawing fresh blood with every twist. He fell upon his side for a brief rest. When his mind was clear, when his body was rested, then he could move past the pain, the anger and the pangs of hunger and find a way out of this place. Only then could he figure out how to fight his way back to Atlantis. He closed his eyes, just for a moment.

vv vv

He never intended to fall asleep but it fell upon him quickly. His dreams were laced with odd, frightening images of Wraith attacks and burning villages; of Ronon twirling his gun and firing; of Teyla racing headlong into danger. Of Elizabeth screaming. Of Commander Carter shouting out orders. Of Rodney speaking so fast his words had no meaning, but the sentiment was more than clear - they were all going to die.

He awoke when he felt T'kel's heavy boot strike him in the back. "Back to torture me with your M-thingie?" John mumbled.

Before John could say another word, two Guards grabbed him by his arms and dragged him to the far wall. They cut his wrist bindings, then stretched his aching arms out and clamped his wrists into cold rusted cuffs and chains that were pinioned deep into the wall. John felt his heart quickening, racing. The niceties were done - now they were going to get down to the real interrogation.

"I regret that it has come to this, John Shepherd," T'kel said. "I give you one more chance to confess. What is your mission?"

"I told you, T'kel. We're on a peaceful mission. We don't want to enslave you. We're not spies."

T'kel gestured to the guards, who quickly left.

"I want to believe you, John Sheppard. But our leniency in the past brought us to the brink of destruction. As a consequence, we are a people who no longer believe in words. Only deeds. Your deeds have so far shown you to be deceiver, a liar. You claim not to be a soldier, not to be a conqueror, yet your weapons are not unlike the ones that brought death and destruction to our our world a century ago. Our ancestors were once slaves to ones like you who came through the stargate bearing gifts and kind words, offerings of peace and mutual cooperation between our peoples. They killed thousands, burned our villages, and forced the survivors to serve them. We will not be conquered again."

The guards returned, but not alone. There was someone with them, a small woman no more than four and a half feet tall, being dragged quite against her will, fighting against them but in no way strong enough to break their hold upon her. Her hair was coppery red and short, cut close to her scalp and spiky. Her head was down so he could not see her face, but he could see that her skin was the color of the sky at midnight. She wore a shapeless black robe that had seen better days. Her hands were bound together in front of her. The alien woman appeared to be as much a prisoner as Shepherd.

"This," said T'kel, "is the M'karra. Her kind is not indigenous to our world; they were brought here by the ones who conquered us, as pets to them, torturers to us. Most have died, but we have allowed some to survive, because they still serve a purpose."

T'kel removed a sharp knife from his belt and cut her bonds in one swipe. She raised her head a bit, but otherwise stood perfectly still. John could see her face now. Her eyes shone like amber, a fearful visage on such a dark face. Her lips barely hid her long, sharp, double sets of onyx incisors. Her eyes were on John. More specifically, John's throat.

John could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Was this M'Karra creature something akin to the Wraith?

"They take the blood of the offender," T'kel said. While he spoke, the M'karra hummed an odd, discordant tune, rocking ever so slightly from side to side. Her voice was sweet, resonate, almost mesmerizing. It was like an alien hymn, a precursor to a ritual. She held her palms up in a way that seemed almost religious, meditative. "From the blood," she continued for T'kel, " we can discern the truth."

The Guard gestured the M'karra to get to work. She knelt in a fluid, graceful manner and crawled slowly toward John, the way one might approach a hurt, potentially dangerous animal to comfort it.

John stiffened and shifted his position, as if he could move further away. But his chains held him fast; he was open and vulnerable to the creature that slinked eerily toward him.

"Back off!" John spat. "I said BACK OFF!" But the M'karra only moved closer.

Her voice was still oddly sing-song-like as she spoke. "The blood carries the memory. All is laid bare in the blood."

"Stay back!"

"There is little to fear," T'kel spoke, the shakiness of his own voice revealing his lie. "Cooperate. Let the M'karra do her work. The amount she will take will be nominal."

"But," M'karra continue as she reached out to touch John's black uniform shirt, "there will be pain. For this, I ask your forgiveness."

"Forget it," John spat.

She ripped his shirt open, exposing his throat. John was beginning to tremble. "Don't do this," he said.

"The pain," she purred, "will not last." She ran a hand lightly along his throat. Her skin felt like silk, softer and more supple than anything he'd ever felt. But he still fought to pull away from the creature.

"The pain," T'kel added, "will be numbed eventually by her saliva. Some creatures have described the effect of this chemical reaction as...quite pleasant."

"Look, I don't know what you think you're going to accomplish by siccing this...thing...on me, but I swear, I've told you everything. I'm not lying! Call it off!" John cried desperately, as the M'Karra moved closer and slowly opened her mouth, aiming for the engorged vein pulsing in John's exposed throat.

John cringed, holding his breath, waiting for the tearing, the burning, the pain. She moved, as if maneuvering her mouth to find the perfect spot. He could feel her hot breath assaulting him. And then there was indeed great pain. Searing, invasive. He could feel as well as hear his skin "pop" as the sharp teeth pierced every layer of his skin and drove deep into his flesh. John fought to pull away, knowing there was nowhere to go, but unwilling to give in and let the creature drain the life from him.

He could feel warmth leaving his body. Her hands held his shoulders, fingers digging through tough material and into his skin, keeping him steady, unable to move away. He shook, eyes tightly closed, lips screwed into a tight bow, fighting not to let out a scream. He could feel his head suddenly grow hot as if his own body had betrayed him and was offering his blood to this monster attached to him. Spittle shot from his mouth as his stomach churned and his gorge rose. Blood vessels exploded in his eyes, turning them red as he strained to escape. And just when the pain was becoming more than he thought he could bare, a different sensation shot through John.

The pain was suddenly, thankfully gone. He opened his eyes. He gasped, and air quickly refilled his lungs. His eyes were brimming with tears that ran freely down his face as an odd, new sensation shuddered through him. He'd never felt anything like this before. No whisky, no physical act, no pain killer had ever made him feel the sudden slam of euphoria he was feeling now. It was as if every inch of his skin, bone and marrow, every nerve ending, every part of his being, was awash in pure, unmitigated pleasure. He began to tremble uncontrollably. He heard a sound issue from him, like a whimper.

He felt disappointed the moment when the M'karra's teeth rip away from his throat. He closed his eyes to mourn the sudden disengagement, and let his body sink against the stone wall to revel in the residual sensations that were pumping and surging through every part of him. It was more than he could handle, more than he could stand. John passed out cold.

vv vv

When John woke up hours later, he was no longer chained or bound. His neck had been bandaged. He felt weak and unsteady, but considering all he had been through, he actually believed he would eventually recover. He shook his head, clearing his vision, and stood on weak, shaky legs.

There was food - some sort of hard crusted bread - on a cracked stone plate, and a cup of water sitting on the floor. As soon as he saw it, his overwhelming hunger made him lunge for it. He ate it without examining it first. He knew it was unwise, but why would they be so dull as to poison him when they could simply unleash their vampiric creature upon him again? He threw the water down his parched throat so fast that he choked. He coughed, clearing his airway, and lay back upon the floor and closed his eyes.

He wanted to come up with a plan of escape, but he was too distracted to concentrate. The memory of that overwhelming sensation he experienced from the creature attack was acute and made him shudder again at the thought. What had the creature done to him? Some kind of venom, he surmised, had worked into his blood stream and cause the unusual reaction. He wondered if there would be any harmful residual aftereffects, or would the venom simply pass harmlessly through his system? As much as he hated what the creature had done to him, how it had fed upon him, some small part of him (and he loathed the deviant thought!) desired to experience that strange and pleasurable sensation again. Just once more. Just once more.

vv vv

Niri was curled into a ball in her cell. Pain wracked through her tiny body. She was cold, colder than she'd ever been before. Just when she thought she could sleep, rest her mind from the jumble of foreign thoughts racing through her mind, she turned and vomited into a corner. That was the third time she had been made sick by the creature whose blood she had taken.

She had experienced all manner of discomfort before after a taking, but never quite like this. The taste of his blood was unfamiliar and deeply unpleasant. She had become ill almost immediately, much to the frustration of her handlers.

T'kel had insisted that she interpret her findings instantly. But she could not interpret the man creature's blood as easily as she could, say, a man like her handlers. The quality of their blood was different, not as warm, easy to read, gentler to her delicate system, and generally all discomfort would pass in a relatively short amount of time. But this was quite different. It hurt. So T'kel had her locked away with a promise to return later.

Later came far too soon. T'kel entered her cell and stood over her. She began to hum, a thing which comforted her but angered her handlers to no end.

"Tell me about the offworlder! Does he lie or tell the truth?"

"His thoughts are foreign to me," she said. "They are disorganized, clouded by fear, rage and desire. His intentions are not clear because his kind is strange to me. I cannot help you."

"Tell me something," T'kel said harshly, "or I will wring the life from you."

Niri raised her hands in a gesture something akin to surrender.

"I do not discern a subterfuge," she said. "He is startlingly honest. But as I said, his intentions are not clear. His blood knows much violence and great pain, dark fear and ravaging war, so much loss and grief, but he is not the bringer of these things...I do not believe he is one who brings war."

"You do not believe?"

"His blood is strange to me. I cannot be sure."

"Then you will take his blood again."

"That is not wise. His reaction was too strong. As was my own."

"I care not," T'kel spoke. "I and I alone will discern what is wise and what will or will not be done. I will not risk the freedom of my people. You will take the offworlder's blood again, regardless of the consequences to you or to him, and you will tell me what his blood says, or you will both die tonight."

With that, T'kel left.

Niri sank deeper to the cold floor, knowing and fearing what was to come.

vv vv

He woke up ill, the contents of his stomach, though light, emptied violently and involuntarily on the floor. Despite the fact that he had slept, he was overwhelmed with exhaustion, his thoughts clouded. Understandable, he thought, considering everything he'd been through. Yet he had never felt this completely devoid of energy. He leaned back against the wall, bringing his knees up to his chest to help keep himself warm. He inexplicably broke out in a sweat, his clothes becoming soaked and sticking to his clammy skin. His entire body was suddenly wracked with severe cramping, starting in the pit of his stomach and radiating to his limbs. He fought to divert his attention from his sickness and tried to concentrate on getting himself out of this place and back to Atlantis. But his mind kept slamming back to his misery as it worsened and spread.

T'kel entered with two guards escorting the M'Karra creature.

"No seconds," John rasped, then doubled over as his gut seized and roiled in pain. He was shaking uncontrollably, as if something alien had taken hold of him.

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO ME?" he screamed through gritted teeth. The shaking intensified, became convulsions. He fell backwards, back arching, face contorted, aware of every moment, every inch of pain, but unable to do anything about it. He knew in that moment that he was quite likely going to die.

vv vv

Niri watch the offworlder's extreme suffering and closed her eyes to whisper a prayer for him. Her plea for mercy was interrupted when T'kel gave her a harsh push forward.

"Take his blood! Now!"

She had no choice. She knew the guards would kill her, and that the offworlder would also die unless she did as she was told. She knelt down and crawled toward the seizing man and placed a dark hand upon his chest. She could feel the rapid beat of his heart and it frightened her. She turned his head and found a new place on his throat.

He cried out when her onyx incisors sank into his throat, but he also subconsciously welcomed it because he knew his suffering would be short, replaced by the euphoria, the pleasure, the physical and emotional exaltation... The venom from the creature hit his bloodstream like a fist. Instantly the seizure ebbed, the pain numbed as the alien-induced ecstacy began to burn within him. He shuddered, his hands simultaneously pushing her away and pulling her toward him. And when it became overwhelming, more than his mind and body could handle, he slammed into unconsciousness.

End chapter 1.


	2. Chapter 2

In the Blood (2/3)

by Lacadiva

_Rating: PG-13/R for violence. Disclaimer: I don't own anything, I won't get anything, and I'm happy that way. _

_Summary: Serious Shepp whumpage. John is imprisoned for suspicion of espionage by offworld captors who use a very unusual torture and interrogation technique. Did I say major Shepp whumpage? _

vv 2 vv

"John...John..." It was Samantha Carter's voice at first. Then Dr. Weir's..."John, can you hear me?" Then Teyla's voice: "John, where are you, John?"

"Here!" he shouted, waking himself. He pulled himself up from the floor into a sitting position, resting his back against the wall, breathing deeply. His dreams had been so real, so vivid, that they had actually frightened him. His eyes were shut so tight that he had to pry them open.

He was not expecting to find her here.

She was sitting against the wall directly across from him, the creature that had assaulted him twice. She sat with her legs curled against her, as if trying to make herself even smaller than she already was. John leaped to his feet, nearly falling when his still weak legs threatened to give out from under him. But he steadied himself against the wall and jutted an accusing finger at the creature.

"Stay where you are...stay the hell away from me," he said, his voice weaker than he was accustomed to hearing it, "and I won't kill you."

The M'karra covered her face with her hands and began to hum to herself.

"Shut up!" John demanded. She instantly complied. He could see she was more afraid of him than he was of her. Good, he thought - the balance of power had been established. He pushed his full six foot frame to stand straight, in hopes of further intimidating the M'Karra. "No sudden moves," he said, "and you might live to walk out of here."

She made no move to attack him. So he took a quick inventory of his physical condition while he could. His legs still felt rubbery, a little as if they were not his own. His body in general felt better, though still not quite as strong, but the pain he experienced before - hours ago? days ago? - was gone. There was a borderline, lingering sensation, no doubt from the creature's venom, still resonating through his system. It was a lot like being somewhat intoxicated, like functioning with a mild buzz.

"What are you?" John asked. "What the hell is an M'Karra?"

"I do not know what I am. M'Karra is a Lamemnian word. It means, enslaved one."

"You don't know what you are? How can you not know what you are? Do you know where you're from?"

"No."

"You ever think to ask?"

"They would not tell me."

"I guess you don't have a name, either."

"I am Niri."

"Niri, huh? Glad to meet you. Actually, that's a lie. You keep your distance, Niri, and we won't have a problem."

"I will, if you promise to do the same."

"Hey!" John shouted, "I'm not the one going around feeding on people."

" I do not feed on the living," she cried, offended. "I did not feed on you."

John pulled his collar down to reveal the dual set of red, swollen puncture wounds on his neck. "I beg to differ."

The creature Niri hung her head as if she was ashamed.

John ignored her, then began to move around the cell, feeling his legs beginning to regain some of his accustomed strength. He ran his hands along the stone walls, feeling for weak places, cracks or soft spots, but found only solid walls. He moved to the bars, grabbed hold firmly and shook them, hoping that he could work one loose to use as a weapon. But the bars held firm, as solid as the surrounding walls.

John sighed and leaned against the bars, but realized he had turned his back to Niri. He quickly spun around to find her standing, though still in her corner.

"Sit," he commanded. She did.

"So...Niri...your boss coming back anytime soon?"

"I do not know."

"Why'd they leave you here?"

Niri looked at her hands. "They were angry with me. I could not give them the answers they desired."

"I know how you feel," John said bitterly. "Talking to T'kel is like talking to one of these walls. So why'd they leave you?"

"They left me in the hope that you would kill me for them." Her expression looked so pained, so filled with sorrow, that John almost felt sorry for her. Almost.

"Or...hoping you'd bite me again."

Niri's amber eyes looked away from him. "Yes."

"That's not gonna happen."

Niri nodded.

"How well do you know this place?" asked John.

"I've lived here my whole life."

"Any secret passageways, secret doors?"

"I have never seen them. I live in a cell, like this one. I do not remember the world outside."

"Looks like I'm on my own."

"You wish to return to the Stargate?"

"Yeah. Wait, you said you don't remember anything out there. How do you know about the Stargate?"

"I saw it in your blood. Will you take me with you?"

"No," John said flatly.

Pain shot through John's head and gut at the same time. He nearly doubled over, but it seemed to pass quickly. Some of the "buzz" he'd felt earlier was beginning to wane. He hoped he wasn't coming down with the violent shaking and the cold again...the pain reverberating through him like a ringing gong...

And then it occurred to him why he had become so desperately sick. Why he spent brief hours feeling inexplicable bliss, passed out for several hours, then plummeted physically until he was sick and puking on the floor.

"You..." It was like a hiss.

Niri pushed deeper into the corner, making herself smaller again..

"You injected some kind of venom in me. T'kel said something about your saliva...some kind of chemical reaction..."

"It relieves the pain of the taking."

"Yeah, but that's not all it does."

Another pain shot through John, but this one wasn't fleeting. He did double over this time, slamming against the wall. The shaking started immediately. John began retching, but there was nothing but acid in his stomach. He knew this was only the beginning.

Sweat was beginning to drench his face, soaking through his clothes. His eyes were burning, tearing up. His ears were ringing. It hurt to breathe.

"What did you do to me?" he accused, demanded. He forced himself to his feet and lunged at Niri, his fingers around her midnight blue throat. 'WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?"

Her cries were like a strained song, her tiny hands fought to push him away.

Pain slammed through John again, and he lost his grip, falling to the floor and shaking.

The sight was unbearable to Niri. She was trembling fearfully, not knowing what she could do to help the offworlder, to end his agony. Then, she remember there was one thing she could do, though she knew he would probably kill her for it later.

She leaned over him, touching him gently, rubbing her hands through his hair to soothe him. She held him, rocked him for a while, feeling him jerk, cringe and shiver with every wave of pain. She could not allow him to suffer any more. She hummed sweetly, then bared her onyx incisors, and turned him over gently onto his back. His face was a mask of sheer agony, the worse suffering.

"No...don't..." was all he could say, before the level of pain increased again, and triggered a violent seizure.

"Forgive me," Niri said, then sank her teeth into John's throat.

vv vv

"Anything?"

Samantha Carter leaned over the console, placing a firm hand on the shoulder of the young Technician at the controls.

"Nothing, Colonel," she said solemnly. "Nothing yet."

Carter patted her shoulder, hoping to encourage the technician and everyone within earshot. "Keep scanning, keep looking. We're not giving up yet."

She turned to leave, but found Teyla standing before her. "We need to talk," Teyla whispered.

Carter looked over Teyla's shoulder to find Rodney and Ronon in a corner watching her. Teyla gestured for the Colonel to join them.

"What's going on?" she asked as she approached, crossing her arms.

"We want to go back," Ronon demanded. "Now."

Carter sighed. "We've already had this conversation. The answer's no." She moved to walk away. Ronon grab her arm. Carter looked at his big hand, then defiantly into his eyes.

"Ronon!" Teyla warned. Ronon eased his grip and let Carter go.

"Sorry," the Satedan mumbled.

Rodney moved between Carter and Ronon, computer in hand. "We...that is I... have a theory. Sheppard's life sign isn't registering, but it may not be because he is dead. You're searching for his body, but I believe we need to get back to P419 and continue the search."

"Rodney, I want Sheppard to be alive as much as you do, but the evidence strongly suggests..."

Rodney held the notebook computer up so that Carter could see the colorful, undulating display.

"Take a look...we've analyzed some of the samples taken from P419...rock and soil samples, water samples..."

Carter quickly read the screen, drew a conclusion and interrupted Rodney. "You're saying that the natural mineral content of the planet could be interfering with our scanners..."

"...making it impossible to get a clear and accurate reading," Rodney finished quickly, feeling a little competitive that Carter would grasp the situation without his further explanation. "It explains why our communicators barely worked, why we were barely able to get back through the Stargate. The strong magnetic field emanating from the surface is wreaking havoc with our technology."

"Which means there is a possibility," Teyla added, "that John is still alive. That he is not detectable by our scanners because he is underground or taking shelter inside a cave or rock formation. We wish to go back to the planet to be sure."

Samantha paused as she thought their proposal through carefully, then said, "My original order stands. The answer's no."

"But Sam!" Rodney cried.

"Listen, John is a survivor. If there is a way for him to get back to us, he will. My concern is what happens if we send the three of you, and we can't retrieve you because of the planet's natural interference. "

"We're willing to take that chance," Ronon protested.

"Well I'm not," countered Carter. "I understand how badly you want to help John. I'm sure he knows it, too. But I need you all here. Rodney, I need you to help continue to analyze that data and find a way for us to counteract that interference. Teyla, I need you to prepare a tactical strike team in case John needs an emergency extraction."

"What about me?" Ronon said. "You don't need me here. Let me go."

"Not yet, Ronon. Not until we have something more substantial to go on. And when we do, you'll be the first through the 'gate. And I'll be the second."

vv vv

He awoke slowly, as if clawing his way through a thick, membranous web. Someone was holding him, rocking him, singing softly to him. He was awash in all manner of sensations. It felt alternately like the exhilaration of flying the puddle jumper at maximum speed and like swimming underwater so deep it would crush any normal human being. He felt invincible, yet as vulnerable as a newborn. He felt warm and cool, like the very air around him was constantly recalibrating to suit his constantly changing mood and desire. He felt butterflies rippling through his midsection, and invisible pins prickling and tickling his feet and fingertips. He took a deep breath and imagined the oxygen was made of colors, all swirling and intermingling and changing as it swept in and out of his lungs. There was no hunger, no pain, no fear, no desperate need to do anything but...be.

He opened his eyes now, and was drawn back when he recognized the acrid stench of the cell, and the sound of Niri's discordant voice. He looked up and saw her face over his, and realized it was Niri's arms that held him and rocked him. He pushed her away and sat up quickly. Too quickly. His head swam, and his stomach turned a bit, but the overwhelming sickness he had felt before was gone. At least for now.

"You BIT me," he said.

"Yes," she said.

"YOU BIT ME!"

"To end your suffering."

"For the MOMENT," John said angrily, closing his eyes at the realization. "What did I tell you? What did I SAY? Don't you get it? Your saliva...whatever...it's does something to me...like a drug, narcotic. The sickness...it's withdrawal."

Niri moved to a wall, cringing to avoid him as he moved closer to her. She looked smaller and weaker than the last time he saw her. He even thought she seemed a little paler.

"Every time you inject that crap into me, I get a little more dependent on it! That's the only explanation for what's happening to me."

John backed away, putting some space between them, knowing that if he got too close, Niri would suffer for it. "Am I the only one?"

"I do not understand."

"AM I THE ONLY ONE THIS HAS HAPPENED TO?" John said, slamming his fist into the wall, and regretted it when it instantly began to throb. "Has this happened to other species?"

"Yes."

"What happens to them?"

"Sometimes they die."

"Great. That's just great."

"But you are strong."

"Yeah," John spat. "I'm a regular Hercules."

"If you can withstand the sickness until it passes, until it ends, you will survive."

"That's encouraging. And if I don't, then what? I gotta walk around with you on a chain to make sure I get my daily suck fest on or die?"

"That," Niri said sadly, "would make me your slave."

"Not to me, kiddo. I'm cutting you loose, you got that? You stay away from me. No matter how bad it gets, you stay away from me!"

"Or you will kill me."

John didn't have to say anything more.

vv vv

Time passed, and T'kel had not yet returned. John suspected this was some part of the strange man's plan. He'd spent what felt like hours examining and re-examining his cell, searching desperately for a way out. He called down the hall for help, for water, for anyone to come at all, but no one came. He remained alone.

Except for Niri.

She had retreated to yet another corner, sick and afraid. She had thrown up blood - his blood - then settle down to the floor uneasily to rest.

"Hey," said John. Niri opened her eyes, but remained lying on the cold floor.

"So, how does this blood thing work again? What did you see?"

"The blood carries your thoughts and memories, your dreams and your desires."

"Like what?"

"The things that mean the most to you. Your beliefs, your convictions. Your deeds. Your hopes. The people you care for most. I have seen them."

"Yeah? Who did you see?"

"The tall and angry one."

"Yeah... That's Ronon."

"And the nervous one."

"That would be Rodney. Who else?"

"The ones to whom you once wanted to give your heart, but could not."

"There isn't anyone..."

"One belongs to another. She carries his child. The other one is lost, away from you..."

"Nice trick," John said, "but that's enough."

"You fear she is dead..."

"That's enough..."

"Both have caused you great suffering."

"I said, that's enough."

"It is deep and always with you, this suffering. You are rarely at peace, even when you are at rest. You think more of others than you do yourself."

"Not true. 'Cause right now, all I can think about is getting my butt out of here and back home."

"To Atlantis."

John turn on her. "What do you know about Atlantis? What did you see?"

"Everything you know. The Ancients. The Wraiths. The Genii..."

John grab Niri and pulled her to her feet. He held her so that her feet dangled over the floor.

"You listen to me," he warned. "You don't say anything about Atlantis to T'kel, or any of his people, you got that?"

"Yes!"

Her amber eyes, so hurt, so afraid, bore pleadingly into his. He felt real pity for her this time, and put her down gently.

"Sorry," he said.

"I will say nothing of Atlantis to anyone. Even on pain of death."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that." He stared at her for a moment. Something was wrong. "You don't look so good," he said. "Sit down."

She did as she was told, moving slowly, gingerly. He could see that she was weaker than before. As she attempted to sit, she lost her balance. John caught the creature before she hit the floor.

"What's wrong with you?"

"I have not eaten," she said.

"Well, don't look at me," said John.

vv vv

Like clockwork, the pain began working it's way back. The onset was quick, but now it seemed to be intensifying, with every muscle beginning to cry out for the drug that Niri carried naturally inside of her. He kicked out violently, as if he could throw it off, but realized it was some strange reflex action. The seizures were returning. He looked at Niri, who slept on the floor several feet away. Even thought he had warned her to keep her distance, not to bite him again, he knew that if push came to shove...

It was then that John heard heavy footfalls, heading his way. Guards opened the gate and ushered T'kel inside. He gestured to Niri, and the guards immediately moved to her, grabbed her by her limp arms and dragged her out of the cell.

"Where are you taking her?" John asked weakly, voice trembling as fear grew deeply and overwhelmingly in the pit of his stomach. The circles under his eyes were dark, near black, contrasting against his pale, sweaty skin. "She did what you asked her. It's not her fault it didn't work." John grit his teeth hard as pain burst through his midsection and rang through his limbs.

"She is not your concern," T'kel said. "You should be thinking about your own life right now. The M'karra has proved to be ineffective in revealing your true intentions. It happens sometimes. But then, there is something else on which we can depend. The pain you're feeling. Your body is now enslaved. The M'karra is in your blood. Without her bite, your agony will become unbearable. I have seen it. Men stronger than your species screaming, crying, begging for relief. For death. Or for her bite. I will bring the M'karra back to you, to save you, if you admit to your crimes."

"When are you gonna give it up...?" John coughed up thick, white sputum that nearly choked him. His body was demanding the alien drug. He knew he was dying. "I'm not lying. I'm no threat to you. Tell you what. You let me go home, and I guarantee you...my people will never visit this God-forsaken place again. You have my word."

"Your word is worth little to me," T'kel said. He squatted down and grabbed a handful of John's dark, wet hair and pulled his head up. "You are dying, John Sheppard. You must know this."

"Happens to the best of us," John muttered as he cringed.

T'kel pushed John away so hard his head slammed onto the floor. John could barely respond to that assault - his own body was doing him much more harm.

"The problem with this death," T'kel whispered, "is that it is a long, protracted, unmerciful death. It could be many days of this, unending pain, growing ever worse."

"Thanks for the head's up, big guy," said John and smiled through the pain.

"It is just as well, John Sheppard. The M'karra has very little life left in her. She may not live to save you again."

"What happened to her? What did you do to her?"

It was T'kel's turn to smile now. "It is you who are responsible for taking her life. Each time she has bitten you to spare you, you have chipped away at her life. Your blood, offworlder, is poison to her."

"No...she wouldn't have done it...she wouldn't have done it if she knew..."

"She knew. But she is trained to do as she is told. You think us monsters because we do whatever we must to preserve the safety and security of our world. Perhaps we are monsters. But I know this: When your pain becomes unbearable, and you are staring death in the face, I wonder what you would do if Niri came to you? Knowing what you know, would you beg her to sacrifice her own life, or would you willingly sacrifice your own?"

John could not answer. It was then that the seizures began. He was barely aware when T'kel walked away, or that the cell door clanged shut.

John was left alone to suffer.

vv vv

Niri sat in her old cell, shivering, but not from cold. The blood tie between her and John was not yet broken. She was aware that John was dying, and helpless to do anything about it. Along with her own regrets - never knowing her people or her world, never experiencing life outside of the stone compound that was her prison - she also had a sense of John's own regrets. They pained her, compounding her despair.

She was also aware that she too, would die, if she continued to ingest his blood. But for John, after all the suffering she had caused him, she would be willing to die.

Her own organs were close to failing. The offworlder's blood was like a slow acting poison at work in her system. Over a short time, death would come, even if she did not take his blood again. Death was imminent. And no one would mourn her passing.

She hummed a sad prayer for the dying.

vv vv

"His time is not long," T'kel informed his cronies. They had gathered around a small table to discuss what to do with their prisoner.

"Have his people returned to find him?" the eldest asked.

"No. There have been no reports of other offworlders coming through the Stargate. But I think it is safe to assume they will."

"They will demand justice for his death. They will seek revenge against us," another one said, wringing his pale hands together. "They will bring war to our world."

"Then we will deny responsibility for his death," said T'kel as he moved to a basin to wash his hands. "We will take him, while he still breathes, to an open place and leave him. Let the carrion birds and the night creatures who hunger for flesh be the fault of his demise."

"And what of the M'karra? Her usefulness wanes."

"Release her. With no survival skills, she will die long before she can learn to adapt to the harshness of the world beyond her cell."

To the Guards, T'kel said, "Take the offworlder, and deliver him to the farther point to the east, and leave him. As for the M'karra...simply open the door a shoo her away. Tomorrow, we will go through the Stargate and hunt for another like her to take her place."

vv vv

Never in John's life had he ever felt anything like this before. It was beyond words. It was beyond reason. It was beyond sanity. Every minute he lived, he regretted. He was crying now, a thing for which he may have felt shame before, but now, crying was all that he could do. He opened his eyes, hoping he could find something, anything in his cell he could use to take his own life. But there was nothing. Nothing left.

He thought of his friends back at Atlantis. There had to be a reason, a logical reason why they were not storming this place and demanding his release. There had to be an explanation for their absence, their silence. Until now, he believed Ronon and Teyla would have moved Heaven and Earth to find him. Perhaps they were somewhere outside these walls even now, searching in vain for John. But from his perspective, there was only silence. There was only his failing, pain-wracked body.

He thought of Niri, and something akin to an electric shock tore through him, as if his body was responding to the thought of her. The idea of her biting him now no longer disgusted him. He longed for it. The pain of her teeth rending his flesh was preferable to this agony.

And then he remembered. She would die. It would be his fault.

He had no choice but to withstand the pain. He had to live through this in order to be free of his alien addiction. He had to be strong. He sobbed again, hugging himself as his world seemed to crash and burn around him.

vv vv

The Guards entered her cell and demanded that she stand. Niri pulled herself up from the floor on weak legs that shudder under her tiny weight. They pulled her down the cold stone corridor, and then up many stone steps so high she had to negotiate them by crawling on all fours. They dragged her down yet another lengthy corridor, to a stone door that was opened by angry looking sentries. Sunlight blinded her; she covered her sensitive amber eyes, hissing at the sudden shock of light, a light which she could not ever remember seeing before. The Guards pushed her, and she fell to the hard desert ground.

"Go!" one of the Guards shouted.

Niri did not understand. Why would he send her away? Where was she to go? This place was her home! It had always been her home. She slept here. They gave her food and water. She had performed many takings, just as they had told her to. Had she displeased them so greatly that they no longer needed her? Were they leaving her out here to die?

Niri tried to go back through the door, but the Guards pushed her harshly, back to the dusty ground. It hurt her. She lay there, trying to understand. She hummed and cried at the same time, still dumbstruck by her situation. If they would only let her back inside, back to her cell, all would be well.

"Go on! Go!" the Guard yelled again. One waved his arms. The other brandished a machete. She'd been cut by the weapon on many occasions. It was not pleasant. It hurt for days, and bled so badly it weakened her. She did not wish to feel the blade upon her skin again. She scurried to her feet and took several steps back, away from the door, but turned back, hoping they would step away and allow her to enter again. They didn't. She turned and ran, and kept running, not knowing what else she could do.

vv vv

John was barely aware of what was happening. He felt something pull at him, then realized he was being picked up by strong hands. They were dragging his limp body across the floor. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he imagined that he was being taken to his execution. Fine, he thought. All of this would finally be over.

Heat prickled his skin. Light burned through his shut eyelids. Where were they taking him? He was lifted and placed on a hard surface that eventually began to move jerkily, jostling him. John tried to open his eyes, but it took more strength than he had. He simply lay there, waiting to see what horrible course fate would now take.

vv vv

"GOT HIM! COLONEL CARTER!"

The young technician was practically giddy at her find. It was very faint, but still quite obviously a tiny red "blip" of light showing on her screen. A life sign.

John Sheppard was alive.

Colonel Carter raced to the screen to see for herself, practically nudging the technician out of her way. Ronon, Teyla and Rodney were not far behind.

"Do we have a lock on him?"

"The signal is weak. It will take me a moment to triangulate."

The technician's fingers flew over the keyboard, coaxing information out of the computer.

"Got a fix on him. He's moving!"

"Good work!" Carter said smiling, even as she double-checked the technician's findings. "Let's go get him."

"Saddle up, people!" Rodney said, but instantly felt embarrassed when Teyla gave him a strange look.

Carter, Ronon and Teyla raced off. "Wait for me!" Rodney cried, handing his laptop to the technician and running to catch up.

End chapter 2


	3. Chapter 3

In the Blood (3/3)

by Lacadiva

_Rating: PG-13/R for violence. Disclaimer: I don't own anything, I won't get anything, and I'm happy that way. _

_Summary: Serious Shepp whumpage. John is imprisoned for suspicion of espionage by offworld captors who use a very unusual torture and interrogation technique. Did I say major Shepp whumpage? _

vv 3 vv

She followed the horse drawn wagon at a distance, staying as far away as she could, hiding behind rock formations or sparse, dried trees that stood slumped like old soldiers still proud to serve. The wagon came to a halt, and Niri watched as the same two Guards who had expelled her from her home were now doing the same to John. They dragged him off the back of the wagon and let his body fall hard onto the dusty ground. They kicked him a few times, prodded him, checking to see if he was still alive. She couldn't tell from where she watched, but she felt that he had not yet died. Her blood would tell her. They were still oddly, mildly connected.

The Guards called out to the horses to go, and the wagon turned 180 degrees and headed back for the prison. Niri remained still if a little impatient behind the tree, waiting for the wagon to travel a safe distance away. Then she ran to John.

She touched his face. It felt cold, despite the heat. She grabbed one of his hands and held it. It sat limp and cold in her hands. There was not much life left in him. She shook him, hoping he would open his eyes. He did not. She hummed to him, stroking his sweaty, dirty face. She knew there was only one way to save him. She held his arm to her mouth and sank her teeth into his flesh.

vv vv

The air felt cool and sweet, dancing on his skin. Gone was the cold bite of the stone floor. This was something else. He was someplace else. John opened his eyes and was met by a thousand stars in the night sky. Lamemnia was beautiful. He suddenly realized he was free.

John sat up shakily touching his body. There was pain, he remembered. He remember knowing he was dying. Maybe he was dead.

He looked around him in the dark - it was as if he had some kind of special night vision. He could see and feel everything. Then it hit him. He only felt this strong, this invincible, because of Niri.

And then he saw her.

She was lying still and lifeless on the ground not far from him. Her mouth was still stained with is blood, which was also pooled on the ground where she had vomited it up. He shook her. She didn't move.

"Niri!" he called out. She remained still. He didn't know if she would have a pulse in the same places one would find a human pulse, but he felt for it anyway. He found something, just behind her ear, throbbing very weakly. Her skin was freezing cold, colder than the night desert air around them had suddenly become. He knew he had to do something or she would die.

He lifted her small body into his arms, stood, and began walking.

vv vv

He didn't know where he was going, but he figured he would find some place that could be used as a shelter, perhaps build a fire to bring warmth back the both of them, and give them a chance to sleep and revive. He knew that in a few short hours he would be back in the throes of withdrawal, so he wanted to make the most of his time while he was still lucid and somewhat strong. He also wanted to make sure that Niri kept her mouth shut and away from him.

He felt her stir in his arms, heard her moan. 'Hey! You coming around?" he said, a little winded from the walk. "'Bout time. I was getting bored out here." John didn't know if she heard him, but it made him feel better to just talk. He hefted her in his arms to get a better hold of her, and continued.

"You know where I can maybe find a Holiday Inn or a Ramada around here? I'd even settle for a Motel 6 after T'kel's crappy accommodations. No room service, no turn down service. No little mint on your pillow. Heck, no pillow. We gotta hunker down somewhere out here. It's getting pretty cold. And you're not looking so...blue...right now."

"John," Niri slurred.

"Yeah?"

"You will go to the Stargate?"

"If I can get my bearings, and after a little sleep, yeah, that's the plan."

"I want to find my people..."

"You and me both."

"...when the time comes for me to die..."

"Nobody's dying, Niri. Not on my watch. You just hang in there."

vv vv

Weariness was creeping up on John. He was sitting with his back against a huge tree, holding Niri in his arms. The creature was not doing well, and he feared she would die as he held her. Her amber eyes had grown dull. Her skin was cold and clammy. She was in and out of consciousness, and no longer humming.

"Why'd you do it, Niri? You knew what it was doing to you. Why couldn't you just let me be?"

"I did not wish for you to die, John. You were nice to me."

"No I wasn't. I threatened to kill you, remember? I would've done it too."

"But you didn't."

"Well...don't tell anybody. It'll ruin my reputation as a tough guy."

"Tough guy..." Her eyes closed, and she fell back into unconsciousness.

vv vv

"How close?" Ronon asked anxiously.

"Pretty close, according to the scanner, if we can believe what it says," said Carter. "His life sign's pretty weak."

"John!" Teyla shouted, shining a light around the area, expecting to find him lying unconscious or dying on the ground. "JOHN!"

Her light did finally find something - she wasn't sure at first, but then her heart began to beat harder and faster against her chest. "Over here!" Teyla shouted, and the others quickly followed as she began running.

John had fallen asleep while holding Niri. He hadn't meant to, but the exhaustion was more than he could handle. He thought he was dreaming when he heard someone shouting his name. He looked up and realized it sounded like Teyla. His own heart quickened as adrenaline suddenly pumped through him. He silently prayed it was not a dream, but real. His answer came in the form of flashlight beams dancing in the distance and moving closer. Voices called his name louder.

He was rescued.

"Took you long enough," said John, as his friends arrived, winded and excited to find him. They stared at the unconscious creature in John's lap.

"I'll explain later. Right now, we have to get her back to Atlantis."

vv vv

There was much protesting from Samantha and arguing back and forth by the away team regarding whether they should bring the creature back with them to Atlantis.

"We risk exposing everyone to all manner of bacteria of unknown origin," Rodney cried, "not to mention the fact that with those teeth, she could be seriously dangerous. Take a look at John's neck!"

Most of them agreed, siding with Rodney, much to their own surprise. But John won out when he explained how his own survival depended on Niri's. It was an easy decision.

Jennifer Keller arranged a strict quarantine area for both the creature and John. Full environment suits were to be worn at all times when making contact with John or the creature. Dr. Keller stepped through heavy hanging plastic curtain arranged to keep pathogens inside the immediate area surrounding John. She smiled reassuringly, hoping he could see her effort inside the heavy head covering. "I need to take a little more blood."

John, laying on his back and resting well for the first time in several days, shook his head. "That's all I seem to do lately. Can't it wait?"

"Sorry, Sheppard, but I have to run a few more tests. Come on, you know the drill."

"Fine."

He placed one arm behind his head to prop him up, then offered the other to Keller, balling his fist.

"How's Niri doing?"

The doctor kept her eyes on the tube as John's blood filled it. "Not good. From what I can tell, there are organisms characteristic to human blood ...your blood...that her immune system can't seem to fight or expel. It's toxic to her, like a severe allergic reaction, but I'm not sure how to treat her. Anything I give her could kill her."

"Keep trying. You'll figure out something."

There was a hitch in John's breath.

"Is the pain returning?"

"Yeah, it's coming. You think you can move this along, figure out something?" he said, sounding worried. "I don't think I can go through this again."

"We're doing everything we can," she promised.

"Hey," he said, grabbing her gently by the arm. "Thank you."

Keller smiled, patted his hand, and left.

vv vv

It returned with a vengeance, the withdrawal symptoms. Rodney, Ronon, Teyla and Keller stood watching John writhe and cry out from behind a protective window.

"Can you not do something for him?" Teyla cried. Tears were welling in her eyes, not yet falling.

"I've already given him morphine. If I give him anymore..."

"You gotta do something, doc," Ronon said. He began pacing. "He's dying in there."

"We're still waiting for the test results to come back."

Samantha Carter stepped into the observation area. She was about to ask, but did not need too. She heard Sheppard cry out through the monitor and saw him fighting against the restraints.

All they could do was watch and wait. And pray.

vv vv

"Hello, Niri. I'm Dr. Keller. I'm a friend of John's."

Keller moved close to get a good look at Niri. The creature was having a hard time breathing, clutching at the sheets with her midnight blue hands. Her amber eyes were open, staring at the ceiling, but shifted to look at the doctor.

"He lives," she said, "but he is in pain again."

"How do you know that?"

"I feel him. Take me to him."

Niri tried to sit up, but she was far too weak.

"No. You need to be still. You're very sick."

"Let me ease his pain."

"How?"

"With the taking."

"You mean," Keller said, her voice wavering, "taking his blood. Biting him again. I can't allow that. For either of you."

"Please...he worsens..."

Before the doctor could ask again how Niri knew what she knew, Keller was called on he comlink.

"It's Colonel Sheppard. He's getting worse."

"I'm on my way," she promised, but could not resist staring at Niri.

Niri sat up, trembling but determined to find her way to John.

"Security!"

Two armed guards in safety suits entered immediately, but Niri did not relent.

"You must!" Niri pleaded.

"I can't. If you try to help John, you'll die."

"I will die whether I help him or not."

vv vv

Keller order Niri to be placed in a wheel chair, then pushed the tiny creature into the room with John herself. It took every ounce of diplomacy and manipulation she could wield to convince Carter to agree to this, and to keep Teyla and Ronon off her back. But she believed this was the only way she could buy John enough time to find a cure. She hoped it would not be for nothing, and that she was not just prolonging John's agony and hurrying Niri's death.

She pushed the wheel chair up to John's bed. Niri began to hum.

"What are yo doing?" John asked weakly, voice just above a whisper. "Get her out...get her out of here."

"She wants to help you, John," Keller said.

"No..." He fought though the restraints, as if he could pull himself from the table. Keller held is shoulders down and looked directly into John's pained face.

"Listen to me, John. You may not agree, but I believe this is the right thing to do. You need more time. Your organs are shutting down, John, and I can't stop it. Without her help, I don't think you'll make it through the night. This is just to buy us a little extra time. I've tested her saliva and from what I can tell, the chemical that has created this awful dependency in you is only activated when it is mixed with your blood. This way, I can take a sample from you right after she...takes...and analyze it. It may be the only way to determine how to create a synthetic version of the addictive substance, one we can wean you off of slowly until..."

"Not worth...the risk..." John said, then cried out again.

Niri pushed herself to her feet and moved to John, placing her hands upon his face.

"Niri...don't do this. You don't have to..."

"Find my home..."

Keller almost turned away when Niri placed her mouth upon John's throat. It was invasive, primal, violent, and almost sensual. Almost. She felt more like a voyeur than a doctor observing for the sake of helping and treating.

When Niri pulled away, all John's screaming and writhing had stopped. Keller helped the failing creature back into the wheel chair, then instantly checked John's vitals. His pulse was as strong as an excited teenager's. His heart beat sounded like a runner's who had just hit his stride. From what she could tell, John appeared to be in the best of health, if not a little...stoned.

Niri, however, was another matter. Within seconds of sitting in the wheel chair, she was unconscious. Keller motioned for an assistant to enter and wheel her back to her room.

She then took several samples of John's blood and left quickly to get it analyzed while the reaction was still fresh.

vv vv

His friends watched the horror play out before them in shock and disgust, but there was no way to hide the fact that all of them seemed quietly grateful to see John's suffering cease. Once the creature was wheeled away, Carter simply turned and walked out of the observation room, unable to communicate her feelings after the display of savagery. She prayed she'd made the right decision in allowing it.

Ronon had turned away, his posture a dead giveaway that he wanted to race into the room, throw the creature Niri to the ground and fire his weapon point blank into her body. But he didn't. He wanted John to live as much as the rest of them. He slammed his fist hard into a wall to quell his anger.

Teyla considered the spiritual ramifications of what was unfolding before her, until she actually saw the creature's teeth sink into John's throat. It was at that point that she traded her circle-of-life theory for a desire to break the circle. But she held back, for John's sake.

Rodney nearly fainted. He blamed it on low blood sugar and raced out of the observation area on a quest to find food. He made a side stop by the latrine to splash water on his face and hide until the shaking stopped.

vv vv

ONE WEEK LATER

"How are we feeling?"

"Great. Better than ever." said John, sitting on the side of the bed, buttoning the shirt to his casual black fatigues. There was relief in his voice, but no cheer. He was finally being released from the infirmary after a long period of recuperating and drug therapy. He was down to the tiniest dose now, so minute that it barely registered that something was in his system. In another day or so, according to Dr. Keller, he would no longer need the synthetic version of the drug she had concocted. His body would be free, and he would be able to return to active duty.

"Limited active duty," Keller reminded him as she conducted what was to be his last check up before his discharge. "No offworld visits. No late nights. No running around trying to save the world and everyone in it. Got it?"

"Got it," John said with a smile. "I'm outta here." He hopped off the bed and headed for the door.

"Try not to come back anytime soon, huh?"

"Only to say hi."

"Sounds like a plan. John, before you go..."

John stopped at the door. He knew what she was about to say, and wished he could avoid it.

"Have you made an appointment yet with the base counselor?"

"I'm on it. Soon as I get a chance."

"John," Keller said, her voice serious and low, "it's important that you talk about this. You've just been through a serious trauma..."

"I said I'm on it."

"I realize this was no...conventional drug abuse issue, but the toll upon your body, on your psyche, is quite similar. You need to open up, talk about what happened. You know you can talk to me, if you want."

"I'm good, Doc. How's Niri?"

"The same," she said. "Unresponsive. Deep coma. I don't expect her to be with us very long."

"You said that a week ago. She's still here."

John made his way down the corridor of the infirmary to a small room where Niri lay in a deep coma. She'd been that way since her last taking. He pulled up a chair, sat down, then took Niri's dark blue hand in his.

Teyla enter quietly, not wishing to interrupt, but wanting to see John. She placed a hand on his shoulder. "It is good to see you up and around again, John."

"Thanks," he said, returning her smile.

"It was a very frightening time," Teyla said. John just nodded. Talking about it seemed impossible.

"Is there any change in her condition?"

"Nope," said John. "No change."

"I have news. We have located a planet whose inhabitants seem to match Niri's DNA. We may have found her home."

vv vv

"Niri...hey, it's me, John. I know I've been bugging you a lot, trying to get you to wake up. But this is kind of important. Seems that Rodney and Teyla have located a world that may be your homeworld. So here's what we're going to do. We're going to check it out - pop in, pop out, just to see if it's inhabited by your peeps. I don't want to just drop you off somewhere and leave you. Point is, I owe you...It didn't start out that way, I know...I want to make sure wherever you end up is where you want to be. In order to do that, though, you're gonna have to wake up. So...wake up already. Do that, and I will walk you through the stargate myself and deliver you. But you have to wake up. Deal? Why don't you think about it for a bit. I'll check back later."

John stood up to leave. Something caught his eye just as he was turning away.

Niri's right hand moved.

"Atta girl. You can do it."

vv vv

It was difficult getting her to trust walking through the pulsing event horizon, but John held her hand, and she did it.

When they stepped out on the other side, planet side, John smiled and would not yet let go of her hand. "Wait a moment," he prompted her. Then he pointed to a place where tall green grass began to separate. A half dozen little individuals, varying in shade, but all obviously the same species as Niri made their way toward the Stargate. Niri was surprised and excited and began to hum. So did the ones who made their way to her. Their harmony was incredible, a treat to John's ears. The seven of them formed a circle and wrapped their arms around each other and began to sing.

John felt equal parts joyful and sad - joyful that he had kept his promise in walking Niri into her world. Sad that the time had come to say goodbye. He stepped to the DHD nearby, practically concealed by overgrown grass, and depressed the chevrons in their proper order.

"John!"

He turned back to find Niri and her new found friends and family all looking at him, continuing to hum.

John held his hand up. Niri held hers up as well. The others followed suit, the custom strange to them, but seeming to understanding what it signified.

John stepped back through the event horizon and returned home.

vv vv

Days passed. Life was slowly, bumpily, returning to normal. John was able to increase his duties in small steps, though he was still restricted from any more offworld activities for at least another week. And even though he was certifiably free of the violent dependency, he was still suffering.

The nightmares were near-debilitating. Every night since his release from the infirmary, he dreamed of being back in T'kel's dungeon, and of the pain of withdrawal. He may have been cured, but his body still remembered with chilling accuracy of detail every moment of his ordeal on Lamemnia. Yet he still refused to talk about it.

It was after a particularly harsh night of recurring dreams, as John was sitting drenched in sweat on the side of his bed trying to breathe, trying to quell the trembling and remember he was home, that there was a hard rap on his door. He rose on rubbery legs and opened it.

Ronon stood there with a basketball clutched in his big hand.

"Wanna play?"

vv vv

They played one on one fast and furiously. John's game was decidedly - understandably - off. As he leaped to block Ronon's shot, he bumped hard into the Satedan and bounced off of him, hitting the floor hard.

"Time out?" Ronon said, after the ball swished into the basket.

"I'm okay," John said, barely able to find his voice as he fought to breathe. "Keep playing."

"No, I need a time out." Ronon grabbed ball and sat on the floor. John was actually grateful for the break. He crawled to the opposite corner and sat against the wall, fighting to regulate his breathing, wiping sweat from his brow.

"Teyla said you won't talk about it."

"She send you?"

"No." Ronon threw the ball hard at John. John caught it. "You should talk about it," Ronon said.

"I know," John replied. "I'm not ready." He tossed the ball back at Ronon, who caught it deftly.

"Okay," said Ronon as he spun the ball on his thick index finger, just like John had taught him. "I can wait."

John smiled. And, after a time, told Ronon everything.

The end.

Please feel free to comment. I hope you liked it. Eat your peas.


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